Walking Dead 1. Chapter 1

**Caged Heat**

**'even though it's freezing outside, it's getting hot in here.'**

**November 3rd. **

"I think I might have been in love once."

He said it so abruptly, a random thought as he blankly stared out of the window of abandoned house number three. This house was a small one. Only one story, 2 bedrooms and a kitchen the size of a coat closet. Beth had rummaged though the rusted cabinets as soon as they arrived in the middle of the night, and the group had swallowed through a can of green beans as the sun came up. They were scattered now; Carl and T-dog keeping watch at the front of the house while Glenn and Maggie stood near the back door.

Daryl stood in the living room, watching fresh flakes of snow dance around in the new winter air. He wasn't on watch duty, but what else did he have to do? Carol tried not to watch him from the kitchen, where she pounded through knifes and plates for anything useful, but by the way he stared blank out the window, she knew he had something on his mind.

When he spoke she dropped a bent fork and it clanked around on the cracked mint green tile, landing against the turned over refrigerator. He didn't flinch though, and Carol blinked as his eyes as he followed the petals of snow.

"Just once." He almost laughed. "I am no sucker for none of that love shit, But damn was Stacey pretty. Course she had braces and always wore this nasty ass pink ribbon in her hair, but I think was in love her."

Carol smirked. "Elementary school?"

"I think it might have been this time of year," Daryl nodded. "I member cause Stacey liked it when it first snowed." He turned away from the window then, looking at Carol as she hung in the empty doorway of the kitchen. Her hair a grown a bit, split ends going in every direction. Tired eyes hung as low has her cheeks and a brown tank top that used to be white hung against her flat frame. She rubbed her cracked fingers against her crossed arms, her lips pursed together in anticipation. "I was a little pussy when I was a kid. Never even said a word."

Carol watched as he adjusted the strap of his cross bow, his eyes crawling away from her. "You think she liked you back?"

Daryl turned away from Carol then, his boots catching the frayed pieces of carpet as he walked away. "Course. Who couldn't?" She had almost been stunned by his last words, laced with a light tone that almost insinuated friendship. He hadn't talked to her like that in a month. Mostly it had just been screaming and mumbling and more recently just silence.

Maybe now it would be different.

**A/N: Hey Guys! I hope you enjoyed this little babble! And expect some more winter fun with Daryl and Carol in the near future! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Caged Heat**

**November 7th**

**"Even though it's cold outside, it's getting hot in here."**

"Beth almost died today."

Carol's voice wasn't angry or sad as she sat down next to Daryl, who had been quiet most of the afternoon. He was sitting on the counter of the abandoned gas station the group had taken early this morning. All the shelves were knocked over, nearly any supplies or food gone. The walls were stained with blood or cracked along the sides, and the glass doors of the convenient store had been covered with old Christmas blankets. They were handmade, once probably very valuable to someone. He was tired, it was obvious. She wasn't sure if he had slept in a week.

"But she didn't." Daryl muttered, picking at his nails with his caked fingers. "So why are you bothering me with this?" He glanced up at her, rolling his eyes before looking back down at his cracked palms.

"What if Rick hadn't of been there?" Carol started, her voice suddenly picking up. She was agitated, her feet barley marching in place like she didn't know what to do with herself. "Or Tdog or Glenn or Maggie or you? What if she was ripped apart, and I just watched?"

"What the fuck?" Daryl snorted, "You've seen plenty of people ripped apart, screaming for their lives. Are you new to the end of the world?" Daryl slid over subtly on the white painted counter top, his fingers delaying at the empty space next to him. "What's your problem?"

"I need to be able to protect someone." Carol said, her eyes reading Daryl for approval before she hopped onto the counter top. "I need to protect myself." Daryl had his fingers in his mouth, picking out the stubborn dirt with the tip of his pointy teeth, spitting them out to the ground in front of him.

"I don't know if you could be trusted with a weapon," Daryl said. "you might be more dangerous than the zombies."

"Shut up." Carol mumbled, the corners of her mouth creeping up. "I'm serious. I'm just dead weight." She didn't look at Daryl when he didn't say anything, awkwardly watching as her hands danced over one another. Out of the corners of her eyes she see's his boots, a brown worn leather pair that he had taken off of a dead person's feet; followed by his distressed jeans, the seam at the end had come loose. She could see the smallest patch of skin peeking out from the ripped sides. She wants to look up at him, read his face for answers.

"Alright." Daryl finally murmured as he slid of the counter. "Rick and Glenn just got back from looking for water. They ain't gonna mind if we're gone for a few hours."

* * *

When Daryl had put a knife in Carol's hand she almost protested. "Shooting a gun is harder than it looks," Daryl started, his fingers still hovering at the edges of the knife in Carol's palm. We needa work our way up." He dropped his hand to his side then, and Carol closed her grasp on the knife.

They stood in a small wooded area, one not to far from the convenient store. It was muddy and stinky, with not much more than a few dozen trees. Short, stout trees, ones with mostly no leaves. The sun had fallen slightly, creating a burnt sky that Carol would have appreciated before the end of the world.

Carol almost smiled as she fingered the sides of the knife, the sharp edge feeling cool against her finger tips. She holds it in both hands, tightening her grip on the handle. For a split second she notices her mind run away, and she thinks about who Daryl probably got this knife from. She wonders for a moment who they were. Soon she's making a couple jabs at some trees, only creating small slices against the tough bark.

"Your way to soft, lady." Daryl says from behind. "You gotta attack it. Do you really think a little cut like that would do anything?"

Carol sighs, looking at indents she's made in the trunk of the tree. There pitiful. "I wasn't made for this kind of world. All I ever used a knife for was cutting the crust off of Sophia's sandwiches."

Daryl pauses a moment, trying to find the right words. He wants to tell her that she doesn't have to do this. That he would protect her no matter what. "Well these ain't no sandwiches. It's a damn tree, make a mark!" He says it coldly, because that's all he knows how to do. "What are you gonna do when a fucking dead guy is trying to rip your guts out?"

She hits the tree with her fist. The pound is loud and it stings her fingers. Daryl watches her dropped head but can hear as the knife hits the dirt. She's silent. Everything is silent for a moment as she leans her head against the tree, water bursting at the edges of her eyes. She's holding her shallow breath, trying her hardest not tremble, not to cry.

"Carol," Daryl finally says, more clear than usual. "It's okay. Let's just come back tomorrow or something. Sides, There probably wondering where we are anyways."

Carol turns to face him so abruptly he takes a step back. Her cheeks are red and she pushes the graying hair away from her glistening eyes, pursing her thin, brittle lips together.

"Thanks."


	3. Chapter 3

**Caged Heat**

**"Even though it's cold outside, it's getting hot in here."**

**November 12th**

"I think you would of made a great father."

The first time Lori felt the baby kick, everybody freaked. Beth and Carol and Maggie all clung to Lori like flies, fighting over her belly to feel the kicks.

"Did you feel that?!" Lori exclaimed to Carol, tears squeezing out of her eyes as she watched Carol's mouth gap open. Her hand caressed Lori's bump, her fingers trembling as soon as she felt soft pounds against her palms. "I can't believe it."

Carol smiled at Lori, her own eyes getting red. "That is so precious." Her voice his shaky, letting out shallow breath to keep from crying herself. "Congratulations."

The incident had led to a plethora of baby stories and pregnancy moments over a fire in a wooded area not to far off from the road the group had been traveling on for the past few days. Hershel talked about the time when Maggie first ate spaghetti and how there was always a red stain on the ceiling no one bothered to get afterward. Lori remembered the time Carl chased the birds at the park, cheering and laughing until his face was as red as a tomato. Glenn mentioned the time his little brother puked all over him.

"Sophia always talked about how she wanted a sister." Carol mentioned, the tone in her voice dropping noticeably. There is suddenly and awkward silence in the air, so Carol smiles lightheartedly, with her eyes shut lightly.

"I hate kids." Daryl mumbles, and Carol turns to a man leaning against a long, his thick arms crossed heavily across his chest, dirt clung to the facial hair the Carol always thought was so attractive.

Carl lets out a adolescent laugh. "Imagine a bunch of baby Daryl's walking around!" and suddenly the air is filled with light laughter, but Carol looks at him with that glare that always made Daryl mad.

"I think you would have made a great father." Her voice is light but serious, and the moment after she says it she looks away, her eyes scanning for anything but the beautiful eyes of Daryl Dixon.

"Yeah, they would be hunting deer when they we're still in diapers!" Carl shouts out again, spitting out laughter that only dogs could hear.

But she was serious. He would be a great father.

A/N: OMG CAN PEOPLE PLEASE STOP SAYING IT'S CAROL'S GRAVE IN THE PREVIEW?! IT'S NOT, OKAY?! IT CAN'T BE. i'll die:(


	4. Chapter 4

**Caged Heat**

**"Even though it's cold outside, it's getting hot in here!"**

**November 17th**

"Do you have a crush on Daryl or something?"

Every time Daryl would travel away on some sort of hunt or scavenge, you could always find Carol posted at the nearest exit. She always seemed agitated while he as gone, her worried eyes almost always scanning the outside for any signs of him. Her hands were never empty though. She would be knitting a scarf for Carl, or folding and unfolding what clothes she had left. She would read and clean and cook, But no matter what she was doing, she was always in sight of the door.

When she had woken up this morning he was already gone, all signs of where he had laid down before vanished. Her first thought is if he had up and left, for good. But she quickly pushed that to the back of her broken mind, remember that she had to make breakfast. But as soon as the noon air had fallen through the broken windows, Carol found herself by the front door. He's dead, or lost, or maybe he really isn't coming back. The crawl around her head like lice, just scratching away.

"Hey," Carol looked up from the novel she had been trying to read to be met with a baby bump. "Am I bothering you?"

"Course not." Carol sighed. "I was just reading, but I couldn't really focus on it anyways. How's the baby?"

"Alive, I'm pretty sure." Lori grinned, her eyes scanning down to the hand caressing her stomach. Lori leaned against the arm rest of an old chair with fabric that reminded her of her mothers dressed, she looks up at Carol, leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed against her chest. Lori's eyes are dark, her face drained. Her dark hair is pulled away from her face, tied into a loose braid running down her back. Her brown fur vest is starting to get a little snug. "How are you doing?"

Carol shrugs, glancing out the window before turning her attention to Lori. "There's not much going on today. That's good I suppose." That was true. The group had been running from house to house, slaughtering zombies by the dozens every where they went. They had manged to stay in this house for 3 days with not much more than a peep. "Everyone needs a break."

"Can I ask you a question?" Lori said, cocking her head at Carol, who looked like she need a nap. Her hair had been pulled back by a piece of cloth, tied at the nape of her neck. "I'm not sure if it's too personal."

"Shoot."

"Do you have a crush on Daryl or something?"

Carol can feel her heart tug at the name. A crush? She contemplates the meaning of the word, her cheeks getting pinker and pinker. She definitely had devotion for the man, a kind of respect that was hard to find. She cared for him.

"Gosh," Carol lets out a nervous giggle. "Honestly I haven't given it much thought."

"Sorry if I'm prying," Lori purses her lips. "With my own love life in the toilet, I guess i'm trying to feed off yours."

Carol laughed. "I'm afraid I don't really have one." She shook her head, almost trying to make her blush melt away. "There really isn't time for one." And then it's awkward, and Carol finds herself leaning away from the door, trying to walk away from something she didn't want to think about for weeks.

"I just notice some stuff," Lori mumbled, and Carol's head twisted back to Lori's smirk. "You spend a lot of time with him. Maybe he likes you too."

Carol shakes her head. "Trust me, Even with slim pickings like us, I'm pretty sure I'm his last choice."

She walks away then, fingering the crusted pages of her book, trying hard not to look back at Lori's satisfied face.

A crush?

It's when Daryl comes home that night, paired with 4 squirrels wrapped around his shoulder when she decides. He doesn't hand her much more than a nod before sitting in a corner of his own, strategically trying to sharped his bowie knife with a brick.

But yeah, she might call it a crush.

**A/N: Serious Caro****l and Daryl are fucking awesome. Look out for an update soon! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Caged Heat**

**November 25th**

**"Even though it's cold outside, it's getting hot in here!"**

"We're not going to leave her."

They days the group had been cooped up in the baptist church on the edge of a small town in Georgia had started to blend together, and the number of walkers wandering through had started to grow. They had bound the doors shut, covered all the windows, hidden in the darkest corner of the basement, but the dead were growing in number by the hours. Rick and Daryl stood in the chapel, weapons held to there chest. When Rick and Daryl kept watch together there were often silence, which neither of them minded. But tonight something had been eating away at Rick and he couldn't hold his tounge.

"Daryl," Rick begun, his cold eyes darting to his friend. There was a tinge of sympathy in his voice. "It's almost been a week."

"What're ya trying to suggest?" Daryl muttered, even colder eyes staying straight forward to the tall double doors, bounded shut by shelves and seats.

"I'm saying it's time to move on."

Daryl turned to rick, his cross bow dropping to his hip. "What are you trying to say?" Daryl's voice raised slightly at every word, anger detected in his voice. "You heard the old man. We can't risk moving her." He took a threatening step toward Rick, eyes narrowing.

"We don't even know if she's going to make it."

"I'm just gonna say one thing," Daryl's voice is slow and clear. His feet walking fast to meet eyes close with Rick. "We're not going to leave her."

* * *

Herschel hadn't left Carol's side for days. He recognized the symptoms for a few days now, but two days ago she couldn't walk. Today she had been stuck the floor, ever slight move causing an yelp in pain. Her eyes were red, her skin almost transparent. Sweat beads raced down her face constantly. "There's no medicine, and no hospital to go to." Herschel had said when Beth asked if she was going to live. "We have to see if she can beat this illness on her own."

Daryl had gone out the past two days to look for medication or antibiotics or anything that would make her healthy again. He had come back empty handed, discourage and angry splattered across his dark face. "How is she?" Daryl asked quietly. The night had already crept on the group, and everyone had grown still. She laid in the corner, wrapped in a torn blood stained sheet.

"She hasn't slept in three days." Herschel quietly analyzed, his arms crossed against his button down shirt. His eyes still laid on the sick woman. "Fever is worse than ever, she's highly congested. We just need to wait."

Daryl's sure that she can get through this. Carol was strong, in ways not like him. It was just a matter of time. He crouched down to Carol, her head against a thin pink sweater she had knitted herself. She looked up at him with half opened eyes, and he watches as the corner of her lips flicker upwards.

"You look almost as bad as I do." Her words are slurred but he makes them out, dropping his head with a chuckle. A cough escaped her chapped lips. It's a low congested cough and Daryl can tell his hurts.

"You shouldn't talk." He says, shaking his head. "You need to get better." Carol coughs a few more times, her head jutting forward violently every time. She tries to cover her mouth with her dead fingers, trembling before falling back to her sides.

"You guys should go on without me."

"What the hell?"

"I'm serious," Carol mumbles, nodding slightly. "We're all going to die if we stay here any longer."

Daryl lets out a sigh, slowly sitting down next to Carol, his hands clung at his knees. "Carol," He starts, and she smiles because he doesn't say her name often. "I'm not going to leave you."

It might have been a dream or hallucination, what happened next. But for a moment Carol swore she could feel Daryl grab her hand.

**A/N: Help me, I think i'm obsessed with Caryl. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Caged Heat**

**"Even though it's cold outside, it's getting hot in here!"**

**November 26th**

"Hold on, and don't let go."

Carol coughed and shivered all through the night, and Daryl watched her in silence has she fought for her life until the sun rose in the church. She was still alive. She was still hanging in there.

"Hey." Daryl said to her when glanced up at him, almost surprised he had stayed with her all night. "Do you feel any better yet?" Carol shrugged slightly, her eyes shutting tight and Daryl can see a tear squeeze out of her eye. She's still in pain, her body trembling with every breath she takes.

"How are you?" She asks, and Daryl wants to tell her she's an idiot. Even when she's on her death bed, Carol cares more about everyone else than herself. He hadn't given a thought about himself since Carol got sick.

"I'm great," Daryl laughed. "You know, it's only the end of the fucking world. Plus, your sick."

Carol giggles, and at first he thinks it's because he's funny. "Please, no one gives a crap about me. I'm useless, remember?"

"Shut up." Daryl looks away from Carol, aggravated at how pathetic she comes across. He glances around the dark room. Some are sleeping, some are just silent. Rick and T-dog are gone. "As soon as you get better we can go out again," Daryl says to her as he rolls to his feet, paired with a grunt only an old man should make. "Practice hunting."

"You just want to get me alone." Carol laughed at herself, stretching her neck to both sides. Any way she laid wasn't close to comfortable. It was barley even tolerable, and she had to keep herself from screaming in pain with every move she made.

"Pfft," Daryl rolled his eyes, a smirk hidden on his lips. "I'll be back." Daryl stood up, stretching his back before slinging his cross bow against his shoulder. "Don't go anywhere."

"Don't worry," Carol chuckled, watching him as she walked away. Her smile lingered as she recalled him, sitting by her side the entire night. She was happy when he had nodded to sleep a few times, but the apocalypse had turned everyone into light sleepers. Every time she sniffled Daryl had flinched awake. The only good thing about bed ridden Carol was spending time with the one and only Daryl Dixon, who would otherwise have not said a word to her all day. The little conversations though, the subtle nods had been enough for Carol. They were progressing. They were friends.

"What's that?" Beth mumbled, nudging Lori awake. The girls were silent, and for a moment Carol assumed that was hearing things, everyone was paranoid now a days. But when the entire group flinched at a thud above there heads, and foul words coming from what sounded like T-dog, the group knew exactly what to do.

"Get your things together," Lori ordered, getting to her feet. She threw her and Carol's back pack over her shoulder. Carol tried her hardest to get up, but her body was like stone and she didn't have control over it anymore. She just listened, trying to pin point the sound and screams from above and before she knew it Rick was running down the stairs, hysterically shouting to get out, to run. Lori is quickly leading to the small door in the basement, prying it open. Her head pokes to both directions like a chicken before she gives Carl a nod to sprint for the cars. Suddenly everyone is close behind, and it's all happening so fast and Carol doesn't even know what's real. She can hear T-dog tumble down the stairs soon after Rick

"Get the Hell out! There's way to many of them."

"What about Carol?" Beth exclaims, already being forced to the nearest exit, Maggie leading the way. She looks back to the sick woman, curly blonde looks falling in front of her eyes.

"Just go!" T-Dog swats them away, a bloody crow bar clutched in his hand. He looks to Rick, and then to Carol and she looks up at the men with desperation. She wanted to act like she would be okay if they left her there, but the last thing she wanted to do right now was be eaten by zombies. She was scared.

"I got her." Rick and T-dog glance behind them, and Carol can hear the relief in her breath. Daryl nods to the men, and they take as an invitation to make there way to the exits, trying to scoop up any left over supplies.

"There coming? Right now?" Carol questions when she meets eyes with Daryl. She can hear them, tumbling down the stairs, hungry growls filling the air. "Oh my god."

"Hold tight, and don't let go." Is all he says to her before he slides his shaky hands under her. He tried to come across calm and confident but he can't keep his fingers from trembling. The walkers had broke in, attacking Daryl when he was completely unprepared. He slaughtered as many as he could, and every kill meant another one that couldn't get to Carol.

She screeches in pain when he lifts her into his arms, but she feels warm in his chest. Daryl winces as she moans, his fingers clasped onto her fragile frame, he wasn't sure if he could let her go if he wanted too. Carol thinks her body is going to crack with every step he takes. Her vision is blurred and she's dizzy and the only thing she can focus on is her head against Daryl's chest. She felt safe there.

Carol can feel her head snap into reality when unfamiliar hands reach for her shoulders, and suddenly she's been pulled into the back seat of a car. Maggie is suddenly next to her, and Carol realizes that she was crying, blood sliding down her sick lips. "Daryl," She can hear herself call his name, and she tries to watch him as he runs to his bike, taking out to walkers on his way.

Daryl Dixon just saved her life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Caged Heat**

**"Even though it's cold outside, it's getting hot in here!"**

**November 30th**

"You deserved so much more than him."

Carol could walk again, and that was especially good news for Daryl. As much as he liked the feel of Carol's soft skin against his, he was getting damn tired of carrying her around all the time. She was slow, still weaker than she usually was, but she was walking; and that meant she was going to be okay.

Daryl would have never said anything to her, but he was damn relieved.

"Your probably pretty pissed I don't need you to help me get around anymore." Carol has said to him around the fire the group built, in one of those generic wooded settings. They shared the trunk of a tree, but sitting as far away from each other as possible. "I know you just wanted an excuse to touch me."

Daryl let out a shaky giggle, rolling his eyes and looking away from Carol's sexy smirk. Ever since she had gotten sick, Carol had started talking to him different. In this way that made him nervous, tugging at his heart. He gently nudged her playfully, trying his hardest to hide the amusement on his face. She had started flirting with him, he decided even though he basically had no idea what flirting was. He also soon discovered he was horrible at flirting back. He hated it when she talked to him like that, mostly because he had no idea how to handle himself.

Of course, after a few moments of Carol gloating in the awkward silence she decided it was the perfect time to take off her sweater. She had her thin little lavender tank top on after neath, and it clung to her sweater for a moment, revealing the pale, smooth skin that Daryl couldn't help but glance at.

"What's that?" Daryl mumbled, his wandering eyes catching a mark on Carol's back.

"What it is?" Carol questioned after she dropped her sweater to her side, her thin fingers lifting up her tank top, staring over her shoulder to try to see that small of her back. "Did I get something on me?"

"Damn, that's a nasty scar." Daryl analyzed, eventually forcing his eyes to tear away from Carol's back. The burn almost reached the length of her torso, a thick horizontal mark that looked like it fucking hurt.

"Oh that. I have it for years," Carol nodded, both her hands falling slowly into her lap. "Ed used to get pretty creative."

She had said it like it was nothing, and that's what killed Daryl. It tugged at him in a way that he didn't like and suddenly he wanted to punch something. He just looked at her, trying to find some sort of pain in her eyes, but instead he found a smile on her face. "It's okay," She reassured him. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"But it did." Daryl mumbled loud enough for Carol to hear, but quiet enough to make it seem like he didn't want her to. She nodded, her eyes falling back into her lap like they often did. It was silent for a moment and Daryl looked down at his hands.

"You deserved so much more than him."

Daryl breaks the silence, and Carol looks up at him as if she didn't understand what he said. She doesn't speak though, and it's makes Daryl nervous. He shakes his head. "Just sayin."

Daryl can feel his strings twist when she places her hand on Daryl's forearm, her thumb circling a few times gently before she pulls away, leaving a sweet sting that warmed Daryl's whole body.

**A/N: Suffering from minor writers block, so sorry if this sucks! :/ It didn't come to me as quick as my other ones. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Caged Heat**

**December 2nd**

"Looks like I finally got you alone."

It had been the worst attack since the barn. The group had no permanent living space, searching every where they could find for food. They were living in the clothes on their backs; the least of there worries had ironically been the walkers. The group had designed a system, and for the most part they had been safe. Break in somewhere, kill the walkers, and then hide until more walkers come along. It was as simple as that. Rick had made sure everyone was safe.

But when the group was making there swift entrance to an abandoned ranch house, they were suddenly everywhere, pouring out of every corner with hunger on their faces. There is a delay before anyone panics; a silent moment where people are registering the dead bodies, the evil eyes, the unforgivable teeth. Somehow Carol was never completely used to it.

"Shit!" T-dog breaks the tension, immediately pulling out a hand gun. He took a look around, trying to gauge if guns would be helpful in this situation, his eyes eventually falling to a panic stricken rick, who subtly shook his head.

"There's too many!" Rick shouted, his arms failing like noodles. The group follows soon after watching Rick take Carl by the wrist, dropping walkers to try to get back to the car.

A word Carol thinks of too often in situation like this is Chaos. But that's exactly what is was. Pure chaos. Everyone ran in different directions, wide eyes darting from walker to walker and Carol was suddenly lost. She looked for Daryl, for arrows lodged in dead people's heads. She needed to find him, but when the sea of walkers overpowered the calmness she was trying to hold on to, all she could do was run.

She headed immediately towards a section of wooded area, a place that she has learned due to experience is one of the best places to hide from walkers.

* * *

It was a different story at night, though. She hadn't been aware of how late in the afternoon it was, how fast the sun was going to fall and how quickly the walkers were going to be in control. They seemed so different at night; she couldn't see them anymore but they could still smell her. She clutched a small knife tight by her hip, fast feet tripping over branches and twigs as she tried to navigate her way back to the road.

All of a sudden he was there, she practically ran straight into him, her knife rising to her chest. A big gash left organs sliding out of his stomach, a loose arm moments away from breaking off. He was a walker; Carol had to tell herself when he came at her, his fingers like poison as he reached for her face, groans escaping from his rotten gums.

She thinks it might have been her first kill. She had been shocked at how much force she used, how easy it was for her to slide her knife in between the eyes of the walker, and how satisfied she was when he fell to the ground.

Carol barley had time to let out a relieved gasp before she heard something else. The cracking of a twig, the scratching of a tree trunk. She keep the bloody knife at her chest, her eyes darting to multiple directions, trying to pin point the sound. As soon she spotted a figure revealing themselves from behind a tree she went straight for them, raising her knife into the air, but before she went for the kill she felt a familiar tingle at her wrist.

"Woah!" Daryl muttered, trying to hide the surprise in his eyes, he held Carol's wrist in his hand for a moment, waiting for her to realize who he was. "Damn, Carol."

Her eyes were wide, her breath sharp as she registered the familiar face. He examiners her before he lets go of her wrist, checking for bites or scratches and by the time his tired eyes reach back up to hers he finds tears running down her cheeks.

"Damn," Daryl mumbles, stepping away from Carol to get a glance of the corpse on the ground. "We got separated from the rest of the group, we're just gonna have to camp out here tonight.

* * *

So maybe the woods at night, sitting in front of a fire sitting next to Daryl Dixon wasn't so bad .It was awkward though, Carol felt like she a teenager on a awkward first date. They weren't alone together often.

"Looks like I finally got you alone," Carol finally muttered, breaking the awkward silence. Daryl shakes his head, looking away from her as a smile creeps against his lips. It had taken her a moment to calm down from today's events. From wandering in the woods all alone to killing her very first walker. She thought she was going to die out there, but then suddenly he was with her. And if he is their then she knows it's going to be okay. He convinced her they were going to find the rest of the group, and not to worry.

"You should sleep," Daryl said, ignoring the flirtations that Carol threw his way. "I'll stay up and watch, and then we'll move on in the morning."

Carol shook her head, a slight grin hidden on her face. "I'll stay up with you, okay?"

Daryl nods, mostly because he is just too tired to argue. She didn't to that great of a job though, consider she had nodded off on Daryl shoulder with in the hour. But he didn't mind too much.

**A/N: Yes; I'm a horrible person. Please forgive me :3 **


	9. Chapter 9

**Caged Heat **

**December 3rd **

**Morning**

"I wish I had known you before the world ended."

It was the next morning, when the sun was just picking over the tops of broken branches when Carol decided she really didn't know a thing about Daryl. She had woken up in the middle of the night, from nightmares that always followed her, but she didn't mind laying down in silence for a few hours. After she detected Daryl, sitting against a tree a few feet away, with his back to her and a cross bow in his hands she let her mind wander, and that was never something that ended well.

What if he was a bank robber? Or what if he was married, or divorced or he had killed his wife to get all her riches? What if he was in college, or worked at the auto shop? Would they have been friends? There was so many things about this man she didn't know.

Maybe it was better to start with the things Carol did know about Daryl. She knew that he had a brother, and she knew that he looked damn fine in plaid. But was that enough for her?

"Hey," Carol mumbled when she walked over to Daryl, the morning light sitting just right against his dirty face and he glanced up at her, handing her a nod before she sat next to him. He hadn't sleep, she was sure. But Daryl didn't let it show.

"So I'm thinking to just head back to where we were yesterday," Daryl started, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes before talking. "Then we'll go from there." He looked at her for reassurance, and was a little confused by the look on her face. Her eyes were looking at him some form of curiosity, her soft lips curled up on her face. "What the hell you looking at?"

"I was just wondering something," Carol started, suddenly smiling with her teeth. "We're friends right?"

"I'm not sure about that," Daryl laughed, looking away from Carol's gaze. Of course they were friends. They had a bond that no one else in the group could understand, but Daryl would never be able to turn those thoughts into words.

"Well, I'm thinking I don't know enough about you," Carol decided to continue, after rolling her eyes. "I wish I had known you before the world had ended."

"Fuck that," Daryl scuffed, and Carol was slightly surprised. "Trust me lady, you ain't woulda liked me."

"I don't know about that," She laughed, running her rough hands through her short locks of hair. "I bet we would have gotten along great."

Daryl shakes his head, a smile forming across his defined jaw. "You are something else, you know that?"

"Yeah, I also know that you like it."

A/N ~ This is super random and it kinda sucks, But I just wanted to write this soooo yeah. Haha enjoyy~


	10. Chapter 10

**Caged Heat**

**December 3rd **

**Afternoon **

If the world hadn't of ended, this would be really romantic."

Daryl always hated it when it rained, and today it was fucking pouring. When Carol and Daryl had departed from their little camping site the sun had been sitting pretty in the sky, so much that Carol had even mentioned how she liked the way it looked today. But as soon as they departed to find their way back to the road where they last saw the group, the rain started falling right on cue.

"God fucking Dammit!" Daryl exclaimed, his heavy hands falling against the bark of a tree to keep his balance, nearly slipping as his feet slid through a muddy puddle. He took a moment to regain his balance, his head dropping to the ground. His brown looks hung down in front of his eyes fat water drops hanging off the edges.

"Are you okay?" He could hear Carol talk behind him, her voice muffled due to the rain screaming down in between them. It was dark as night, and wet as the ocean and Carol looked at Daryl with worry in her eyes. Her sweater clung soaked to her body, her arms crossed tight against her chest. She kept her head down, avoiding rain drops in her face.

"I'm fucking great." Daryl scuffed, loud and angry as he stepped out of the mud, his fingers sill hovering against the tree that had keep him standing. It was hard to travel in rain like this, and any possible way of tracking their previous steps had been washed away by the water. But they had to keep moving, If they waited any longer they might never find the group. Carol didn't say anything after that, and it was probably good because he might blow up in her face. His fingers were slippery against his cross bow, his feet practically on ice and he sure as hell couldn't see two feet in front of him. Carol had been keeping close behind him, following him with trust and that sucked because he wasn't even sure if he knew where he was going. He grunted with every step, praying to freaking god he didn't end up on his ass.

"Fuck!"

Carol's crystal eyes widened when she saw Daryl go down, his back flat against the soiled ground, his head smacked against the mud, his eyes shutting hard. She couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh or cry, and that led her to stand in the pouring rain for a moment, knowing that if she could see Daryl clearly his cheeks would be bright red. He sat up in a puddle of his own embarrassment, his fingers clutching into the liquid mud and he didn't want to look up at the woman standing at his feet.

He was forced to look up at her though, when he could feel her slick fingers against his arms. Even in the pouring rain, when Daryl was angry at the world, a touch from Carol still made him tingle. She helped him to his feet, and he was finally up she didn't let go of him right away.

Carol was smiling as Daryl finally met eyes with her, avoiding eye contact as her hands rested against his biceps, helping him keep his balance. She dropped her hands to her side, but not without letting them slip down the rest of Daryl's arm, her fingers teasing at the tips of his before they ceased contact. .They were standing close, even with the Rain darting in between them.

"Are you okay?" Carol asked, without a hint of amusement in her voice and Daryl abruptly nodded, finally looking at her the eyes. He watched as a seductive smile creeped onto her face.

"If the world hadn't ended, this would be really romantic."

"Shut up," Daryl scoffed, heading off into the woods again, a slight grin against his rough face. She followed quickly behind after a moment of basking in the moments with Daryl she always cherished.


	11. Chapter 11

**Caged Heat**

**December 3rd **

**Night **

"I think I might have a crush on you."

It was almost night when Daryl had found his way back to the road where they last saw Rick and the others. The air was still sticky and smelly and thick, but the rain had finally stopped and the first thing Daryl spotted made him smile.

"Some dick head knocked over my bike." He scuffed under his breath, glancing in both directions before he walked to the over turned motorcycle on the ground. The other cars we're gone, not much to their surprise. Carol reluctantly found her way out of the trees after Daryl, and she thought it was stupid that the hope that maybe the group would be waiting for them here had clung in the back of her mind.

"They're not here," Carol said, worry plastered across her face. Daryl hadn't spoken to her for hours, she assumed because he was angry and cold and still embarrassed because he had fallen on his ass earlier. So she hadn't questioned it, and she blindly followed and obviously lost man until he finally found his way back. She watched as he started up his bike, anger splattered in his eyes. "What are we supposed to do? What if we can't find them?" She questioned, quickly catching up with him. He didn't answer her. He never did anymore when she panicked like this. He just sat on the bike, waiting patiently for her to get on, avoiding any eye contact. "You don't even know where your going." She mumbled under her breath as she found her familiar spot on Daryl's motorcycle, her finger lingering against his sides, and she decided it would be best if she didn't say anything else.

* * *

"Let's stop here."

He hadn't spoken in a half of an hour, not even a grumble or a laugh. They had stumbled upon an abandoned town, one of those southern ones that looks just like the ones in western films. The street was lined with little mom and pop type shops, most of them either boarded up or broken into. The most important thing though, Is they hadn't seen a walker all day, and before Carol had noticed Daryl was already heading toward a building with a sign on it that read "Al's bar."

"Where are you going?" She called to him, and he didn't have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes. He barley moved his head, inviting her too. She clutched tight onto her cross body bag as she sprinted after him.

The bar was nice on the inside, almost left in pristine condition. Glass bottles full of liquids, lined a wall in the back, and when Carol Carefully entered the bar, she found Daryl right at the front seat.

"Come on Daryl," She nagged, sighing as she walked to him, sitting on the bar stool next to him. "You shouldn't be mad at me just because you fell on your ass earlier." She said, amusement hinted in her voice.

"Shut up," He finally said, and she couldn't quite tell if he was serious or not. Carol looked down to find Daryl pouring a drink into a shot glass, his cross bow sat next to him on the bar.

"Do you really think this is what we should be doing right now?"

"How about," Daryl said, looking up into Carol's worried eyes. "Eveytime you say something annoying, I take a shot."

"This isn't a game, Daryl."

"That's one." Daryl almost laughed, swallowing the contents of the glass, he head falling back behind him. He wasn't used to the taste of alcohol, coughing a few times before he brought his head back to Carol.

"I'm serious-"

"That's two." He said again, pouring himself another glass.

"He should be finding the group right now!"

Daryl swallowed the second glass, hitting hit hard on the bar before he spoke. "It's late, Carol. There's no point in looking more right now. We just need to pick it up in the morning."

She looked at him for a second, shaking her head before bringing her gaze down to her hands as they crawled along one another, but her head quickly shot back up as she caught him take another shot.

"I didn't even say anything that time!" Carol exclaimed, and Daryl laughed as he set the glass back on the table, his fingers dancing around the top, his eyes staring into the empty center.

"Have a drink, Carol." He said, sliding the glass across the bar, and she caught in her hand due to a reflex.

She giggled a bit, rolling her eyes at the same time. He watched her for a moment as her eyes danced for the bottle to the shot glass, and Daryl was surprised when he snatched up the bottle, messily pouring herself a glass. He had expected her to protest, to say no. But she almost chugged down the drink easier than Daryl had.

"Damn woman," Daryl said, and he thought it was cute when she let out sharp giggle, gently slapping Daryl's bicep.

* * *

It wasn't surprising to Daryl though, that it didn't take much for Carol to get drunk. He was only buzzed by the time that she was uncontrollably giggling while she was drooling against the counter top. He also wasn't surprised that Carol was a talkative drunk. He listened to her as she slurred through her entire high school experience, her first job and her first time. Needless to say, it was pretty entertaining..

"Can I tell you something?" Carol propped her elbow up on the counter top, holding her head up in the palm of her hand, her watery eyes looking at Daryl, who was still downing another shot.

"What?"

"I think I might have a crush on you."

Daryl had to stop for a second. He felt like the alcohol got caught in his throat, like he suddenly couldn't breath. His head hurt all of a sudden, and he was praying that maybe he heard her wrong. He looked at her, trying his hardest to keep at a straight face as Carol smiled at him. "Your so drunk." He said, sighing in relief. She must not of meant that, she had no idea what she is talking about.

"Yeah, but it's still true." Carol replied, she rested her head down on the counter, her wide eyes still looking up at Daryl. He just looked at her for a second, watching as her eyes flickered to the back of her head, her mouth hanging open and Daryl would have thought it was hilarious if Carol hadn't just dropped a giant bomb. It's not her fault though, Daryl was the one that asked her to drink in the first place. Daryl took a deep breath, his head clouded and fizzy and he took another shot before he spoke.

"I think I have a crush on you too."


End file.

Walking Dead, Romance